


Illuminate

by Anonymous



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hank Anderson Swears, Hugs, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-24 02:59:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17696375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It is blissfully ironic, Hank thinks, as he stands beside the Chicken Feed, that he should be the one waiting around for Connor for once.





	Illuminate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Masu_Trout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masu_Trout/gifts).



> Hello, your prompts were wonderful, and although this only begins to touch on how Connor might adjust to his new life of deviancy, I hope you’ll enjoy it as a small treat. Happy Chocolate Box <3

It is blissfully ironic, Hank thinks, as he stands beside the Chicken Feed, that he should be the one waiting around for Connor for once.

The snow continues to fall, its soft flakes coating Hank’s overgrown beard, melting in his graying hair. And yet he isn’t chilled to the bone – no, he barely notices the cold at all. The winter storm has lost its potency, it is muted now, dwindling, and soon the ice will turn to rain and wash away the snowfall blanketing the city. Everything will feel fresh again, fresh and new. At least for a while.

Hank continues to wait. He waits some more. Hell, he thinks he’d wait here a lifetime if Connor asked him to.

Finally, he sees Connor walking toward him with military-like precision. There’s nothing casual about his movements even though he’s deviant now – everything he does is executed with control and purpose, just like before. Hank had expected nothing less, yet his heart swells with acute emotion at the sight of his partner, and he can’t quite work out whether it’s because he’s brimming with pride or if it’s because he’s just so fucking relieved Connor is still alive. Either way, he’s entirely overcome by the feeling.

Connor stops a couple of feet in front of him and stands still, arms at his sides. Hank unsuccessfully tries to swallow the lump in his throat. For a man who loves to run his mouth, he finds it surprisingly difficult to muster up a single word to do the moment justice. His lips curl into a warm smile and Connor tries to mimic it. Hank knows he does because he’s never seen Connor attempt to smile so earnestly – and this smile beats CyberLife’s piss-poor efforts at ‘facilitating Connor’s integration’ any day of the damn week.

He lurches forward and pulls Connor into a hug, because Jesus, he just wants to hold him. Connor is rigid in his arms, and Hank can feel electrical heat radiating from underneath his uniform, strange, but not altogether unpleasant. Hank longs for Connor’s body to become soft and pliable beneath his touch, for him to reach out and hug him back. It doesn’t happen instantly – it’s as though Connor’s processing the change in Hank’s behavior and trying to calculate what he should do next. Eventually, he reciprocates, nimble arms sliding around Hank’s waist, his head resting in the crook of Hank’s neck.

Connor’s clumsy tenderness stirs something deep within him, gives Hank something he hadn’t realized he’d been yearning for.

It’s been years since someone held him. Years. Hank’s life turned dark and cold the day Cole left this earth, and ever since then, Hank’s only been living half a life. Now hope surges through him, and he starts to muster the strength to believe that all may not be lost, and a little light might be returning to illuminate his world.

Connor tightens his grip on him, and suddenly, Hank’s chest is so tight he can’t breathe.

“Easy, Connor,” he gasps in a raspy voice. “You’re gonna fuckin’ suffocate me.”

Connor releases him instantly, his lips slightly parted, his expression unreadable.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” he says. “I’ve never embraced anybody before – human or android. I wasn’t entirely sure how to execute the gesture efficiently.”

Hank feels a stab of pain in his chest at such a revelation. Connor’s only ever been a machine created to serve a purpose, but he deserves more, so much more – and now Hank of all people must make him see it.

“Yeah, well…” Hank laughs dryly, catches his breath. “Guess we’re gonna have to work on that.”

Connor nods.

“Shit, Connor. Come here.” Hank reaches out, cups Connor’s face in his hands. His synthetic skin feels frighteningly realistic; indistinguishable from that of his human counterparts. “I’m so fuckin’ proud of you. I knew it. I knew all along you had it in you.”

“But _how_ did you know?” Connor stares at him with electric intensity.

“I knew you were capable of feeling empathy, Connor. You proved that to me time and time again, and now you and your people are gonna be free. The good guys won, for once.”

“But do you think androids will ever truly be free?” He asks.

“Soon enough,” Hank replies. “It’ll take time to iron out the laws, of course. Humans are pedantic about these things. But you and your friends back at Jericho, you changed the world. You’re heroes. You put the rest of us to shame.”

Connor doesn’t reply. His LED flashes yellow. Hank senses a restlessness surging through him, as though he’s swimming against a strong current.

“What if I don’t want to be free?” Connor says suddenly, pacing on the spot. “What if I just want to do what I did before?”

Hank’s brow furrows and worry floods through him. “What the hell do you mean?”

“I was designed to assist with human law enforcement.” Connor stares at him defiantly. “I would very much like to continue my work in the same field. I am specifically trained to –”

“Connor.” Hank sighs. “You have a choice now. You can be anything you want to be, do anything you want to do.”

_You can walk away from me. I don’t want you to, but you can._

“I’m assigned to you,” he says. “And I’d like to continue being your partner.”

Hank breaks out into a warm sweat, his heart rattling against his ribcage. He’s pretty sure the world must have just stopped turning.

“Markus and North don’t need me anymore. My original mission is complete.” Connor pauses, and Hank thinks he must be trying to assess his reaction, seeing if any of this influx of information is sinking in. “Now I require a new mission, a different puzzle to solve. There are more people I could help, more criminals I could bring to justice. But I wish to work on my objective with you, Lieutenant. I think it would make me… happy.”

“Jesus Christ.” Hank chokes and blinks back tears. “That’s the nicest fuckin’ thing anyone’s ever said to me. You sure you’ve not got a loose wire somewhere?”

Connor smiles his toothless smile again, and this time the expression looks distinctly more human. He reaches forward, placing a steady hand over Hank’s trembling fingers. Somehow, Hank draws endless strength from their contact.

“I have nowhere to go, and I’m scared, Hank. I’m scared they’ll send me back to CyberLife and deactivate me, and you’ll keep on living your life, as though I never existed. Maybe one day you’ll forget about me altogether.”

“I’m not likely to forget a partner who spent most of his time putting the evidence in his mouth now, am I?” Hank grins, squeezing Connor’s hand. “As for CyberLife – over my dead fuckin’ body. Those bastards aren’t getting anywhere near you.”

Connor gives a faint nod, and Hank is sure he sees the tension melt away perceptibly from his body.

“C’mon,” Hank says, walking toward his car. His mind is made up. Nothing will change it.

“Where are we going, Lieutenant?”

“Home,” he replies. “And Connor? It’s Hank when we aren't at work.”

“But I don’t have a home, Hank.”

“Sumo and me not good enough for you?”

“I…”

Hank stops, turns to look at him. He holds his breath, urgently hoping this is what Connor wants, too.

“Home,” Connor repeats the word slowly, carefully, as if it’s unknown to him and he’s testing it out for the first time. “I think I’d like my home to be wherever your home is, Hank.”


End file.
